


Gingerbread

by imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, Solo triplets, Sweetness, Triplet AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away/pseuds/imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away
Summary: It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, and that of course means decorating the gingerbread house!





	Gingerbread

“Careful…Care–ful…” Matt spoke softly, hands slowly pulling away from the roof of his gingerbread house.

Well, technically it was both of your gingerbread house, but Matt had been the one slaving over the oven all day to make it. Now he sits at the counter cementing each cookie panel to one another with tasteless white frosting. The sight was almost comical; Matt’s tall broad form dwarfing the gingerbread house as he crouches over it, handling his creation with the utmost care and willing the pieces to stick together with just the intensity of his stare.

You both watch the roof of the house, waiting for the worst with your hands at the ready. Nothing; the roof holds still. Heaving a sigh of relief, Matt looks at you, chocolate eyes alight with pride.

“It only took ten tries,” you laugh.

Matt poked at your side playfully, earning an excited squeal as you lept just out of his reach, “Only one if you had made the frosting right.”

So what it took ten tries? It was worth it to force Matt to steal glances at you while you worked until finally he got so fed up with your shoddy attempt at frosting, he had to show you, taking your hands himself and repairing your batch with his masterful technique.

“Hey, would you mind grabbing the candy?” Matt asks, waving the half full piping bag in the direction of a cupboard before leaning back over the gingerbread house to add one final layer of sugary cement.

You cross the Solo’s kitchen to the cupboard closest the fridge. “In the usual spot?”

He nods, “Yup. Gotta keep it hidden from my brothers.”

Inside the cabinet is a treasure trove of assorted Ziplock bags, tin foil, parchment paper, seran wrap, and tucked neatly behind it all just out of sight, is a grocery bag full of dollar store candy. You pluck the bag from its hiding spot, careful not to drag the rest of the cupboard out with it, and return to your spot at the counter next to Matt.

“Thanks!” He takes the bag from you, pushing the green sleeves of his sweater up around his elbows. “I was thinking I’d do the work with the frosting and you could place the candy?”

Nodding, you watch as Matt dumps the contents of the bag onto the granite countertop; decorating its surface with an array of colored sugary treats. “Do we have to use it all?” you ask.

Matt shakes his head, unwrapping a mint and popping it into his mouth. “Anything you don’t want to use we can save for later. It’s all up to you.”

With the all the precision of a Cupcake Wars finalist, Matt begins detailing the gingerbread roof with rows of thin white arcs, layering them to create the look of shingles. You follow behind, dropping a small colorful round candy at the crest of each shingle. The routine continues row after row until one side of the roof is covered, then you continue to the other side. All the while playful chatter fills the space between you, only ever interrupted by Matt’s deep laugh, your cheerful giggle, or sneaking candy when you thought the other wasn’t looking. It seemed no time at all had passed before you were placing peppermints outside the little house to create a path as the finishing touch.

Frosting down a green gummy tree outside the house, Matt admires your handy work. “It looks great,” he says leaning down to press his lips against your head. “But now it’s time for the best part.”

“The best part?”

He crosses the kitchen and retrieves two little gingerbread people he’d been saving in the oven. “Someone has to live in the house,” he says returning to his seat. Matt hands you a gingerbread man, cradling it in his big hands like a porcelain doll. “There’s one rule though.”

“Oh?” You take the gingerbread man from him, raising your eyebrows in anticipation of his response.

Matt looks at you with deadly seriousness from behind his glasses. “No peeking until we’ve finished decorating them.”

“Are you afraid I’ll copy you?” you laugh again.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I just want it to be a surprise.”

Agreeing to his request, Matt turns away from you with his cookie; using his body as a curtain to shield his gingerbread man from you. He looks back over his shoulder, meeting your gaze. “No peeking.”

So you turn away from him too, mimicking his posture.

You can hear him behind you, crinkling wrappers and mixing new batches of frosting. Curiosity gnaws at the back of your head, begging you to sneak just one look. Looking back over your shoulder, you lean slightly to peek around Matt’s form. Your chair creaks, drawing the blonde’s attention and when he looks at you, your heart launches into your throat.

“Hey!” Matt crowds further over his gingerbread man, protecting his masterpiece from your prying eyes.

Giggling, you turn back to your own cookie that still sits undecorated. You picture what it could look like; gumdrop buttons, and a smiley face? No, that felt too simple. With the garniture of the gingerbread house, it would look like a pauper outside Kensington Palace. This gingerbread man had to be special. You look back just one more time, watching Matt fuss over the cookie you still couldn’t see. His lips pressed into a thin line in concentration, occasionally brushing sunny locks from his face, eyes trained with acute focus from behind his glasses. You knew what you wanted to make.

Frosting for a smile, eyes, the outline of a vest, shirt, and pants, popcorn for hair, and a licorice string to make the frames of his glasses.

“Done!” You turn on your stool to face him, excitement coming to a rolling boil within you.

“Hold on.” he says, still hunched over, adding one final detail to his creation. “And– done!”

Matt spins, gingerbread man in hand as he pushes away discarded candy wrappers to make a place to set his cookie. You scoot yours over next to his on the counter, both of you holding your hands over your gingerbread man waiting for the final reveal.

“On three,” you say. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

Drawing your hands away, you look down to Matt’s gingerbread man, your breath catches in your throat. It was you. Expertly frosted, with crushed candy pieces to create texture on the sweater your cookie-self wore.

“Matty!” you gasp, but he only laughs, picking up your gingerbread man.

“It’s me.”

In comparison, yours was a decorative disaster next to Matt’s instagram ready gingerbread man, but he looked at yours and held it with the same adoration and wonder as if it was the most masterful thing he’d ever seen.

“It’s not as pretty as yours but-”

Matt grins so wide you can see his crooked teeth peeking from behind his lips. “I love it, muffin.”

He frosts the feet of your cookie and sets it outside the house next to the peppermint path. Taking the piping bag from him, you follow the same procedure on gingerbread-you and stick it right next to gingerbread-Matt; their little cookie hands touching as if holding one another.

Matt takes your real hand, squeezing gently as he admires your collaborative work. “Perfect,” he says.


End file.
